Page 52 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

That’s when the flash of heated fury blinded her so hard, she turned and slapped him right across the cheek. The sound rang across the parking lot like a gunshot.

Angela’s hand stung, and her voice shook with fury. “Don’t you dare use my family against me. Leave me alone.”

“No.” Zarek’s voice dropped, now laced with anger. “I’m doing this for your own safety.” He moved too fast for her to react.

One moment she was on her feet, the next she was thrown over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing.

“Put me down!” She slammed her fists into his back, kicking her legs, and grabbing at his jacket.

Zarek didn’t flinch.

“Zarek!” Fuming, the blood rushed to her face. Her hair was everywhere as she hung over his shoulder like a sack. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving you.”

Angela’s scream cut off as her entire world folded from her view.

TWENTY-TWO

Zarek ensured his magick was extra controlled so as not to burn Angela, even though her slap still burned across his cheek. Not physically, but the shock of it lingered.

No one struck him.

And yet it had been… earned.

Angela was so angry she wasn’t listening to reason. So, he hooked an arm around her waist, lifted her clean off her feet, and thrown her over his shoulder.

She wasn’t the first mortal he’d carried like this, but most of them were unconscious from Black Cloak attacks as he took them to the healers.

This mortal was different.

“What are you doing? Put me down!” Her fists slammed into his back. She kicked, twisted, and grabbed his jacket.

“Saving you.” He had no choice but to step through the fold of the veyll, where the world split. The air collapsed into nothing and reformed around them as they appeared in the alley behind her family’s bookshop. He still couldn’t enter because of the wards, only this time they shifted in her presence, just like they did at her house before she welcomed him inside. Which he’d doubt she’d do that now.

Angela gasped, stunned by the shift, but did not weaken, again hitting at his back. “Let me down.”

“No.” Zarek wasn’t done.

He then stepped through another fold of the veyll.

Hong Kong’s humid night air hit like a wave as neon blended into a kaleidoscope of shimmering lights that reflected off the wet pavement. The noise of the busy city’s nightlife was a shock to the senses.

Ensuring they were cloaked, he let reality settle for two heartbeats.

“Have you lost your mind?” She struck his back again. “Where the hell am I?”

Another few seconds, then they were back into the veyll.

This time, he carried her to the other side of the globe, to the mortal professor’s private library where Pete Macrombie’s simple wards shimmered faintly along the upper beams, but failed to react to either of them.

Raising the question: how come Angela’s wards were so strong when someone like the professor, who had spent his entire life studying the esoteric arts, were so weak in comparison?

“Zarek, if you don’t put me down, I’ll—” Her voice cut off as they shifted through another fold of the veyll, this time to the Bone & Whistle.

The bartender glanced up, registered him carrying the female over his shoulder, and asked no questions. They never did.

Zarek had brought her here to find out if she could see this bar, given it was covered with thick cloaking spells and wards to hide it from the mortal realm.